


Long Time, No See

by BlackKite7



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Drunkenness, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, big sappy babies can't get over things and are angry and in love, break ups, crying towards the end, excessive kissing I'm sorry, i think anywho, im sorry for it in general, it gets real cheesy in places i reckon and im sorry for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-02 08:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5242277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackKite7/pseuds/BlackKite7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanamaki and Matsukawa broke up just before graduating Aobajousai, and haven't spoken since. A drunken call he doesn't remember, and suddenly the face that haunts him is there once again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Can't Forget You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaneki_coffee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaneki_coffee/gifts).



> Written for kaneki-coffee because she told me not to. I did it anyway. I'm very sorry.
> 
> I'm not though really, this was fun :) been months since I've written an extended-fic thing. Prompt was the second au-idea from this post: http://black-kite.tumblr.com/post/133452552496/post-breakup-aus. This is divided into two parts, the second half is entirely nsfw, so read at your discretion. The story itself is complete at the end of the first part, I just added the second half because I'm out of practice in terms of writing smut.
> 
> Anyways. Yeah. Kinda sorry but not really, enjoy!

Matsukawa had no idea how much he had had to drink that night. Someone had asked him a question just as he was leaving class; an entirely innocent question, there had been no intent to mock him in some way, yet it stung all the same.

‘ _Are you single?_ ’ He had almost blurted out _no_ in reply.

And so there he was, drinking alone in some shoddy bar at god knows what hour, sitting on the stool closest to the wall as he leaned against the bar top. Whenever his glass emptied, the bartender filled it up without uttering a word. Something about his expression must have screamed ‘ _I really need to forget_ ’. The staff wouldn’t be giving a young guy like him such sympathetic looks otherwise.

Or maybe he really was just that pathetic.

How long had it been? A year and a half? Time went by quickly when he distracted himself with his studies and part-time job. His days were a blur of running to catch the train before he missed it, eating lunch with his classmates and lounging on the campus grounds before either going to work or back to the dorms to study.

Every other night, though…he remembered. Other times he dreamt it. He wasn’t sure what was worse. Still yearning for him, or being with him only to awaken and feel the old ache in his heart.

He remembered it clear as day, when Hanamaki broke up with him. He thought he was kidding at first. Trying to get a rise out of him. That was oh so like him. They had been walking home, just after practice. Hanamaki had been unusually quiet in the days prior. Maybe he should’ve taken that as a warning, maybe he should have seen it coming. As they stopped on the corner that divided their residential districts, Hanamaki just…said it. Like ripping off a band-aid, sharp and quick.

“ _I want to break up_.”

The following seconds it took for Matsukawa to process his words seemed like an eternity. When Matsukawa asked if he was joking around, Hanamaki gave him this look. This hurtful little frown with furrowed brows, as if Matsukawa had offended him or something. His heart was pounding painfully in his chest when he asked why. He had been thankful at the time his voice hadn’t cracked.

Hanamaki’s reason was one of simplicity itself. They were going to different universities. They would hardly ever see each other. ‘ _It’d be better to break up now, before someone gets hurt later._ ’ Those were the words he had used. Matsukawa had repeated them to himself for hours later that same day, wondering what he meant. Did he think that Matsukawa would cheat on him? Or that he himself would be unfaithful? Or that they would simply…drift apart?

They argued that night, on the street in the diming sunlight, just as the street lamps were flickering into life. A car had passed by when Matsukawa grabbed Hanamaki by the collar and shouted at him. It was ironic…he could remember everything else except the words he had yelled in his face. The words that made Hanamaki’s face twist in anger, with tears welling up in his eyes. He knew it was hurtful, what he said. Some nights when he dreamt it, over and over, he remembered what he said – but he always forgot but the time he woke up.

Such as it was, with dreams.

They didn’t speak after that. Volleyball practice for the third years ended with the exams coming up, but everyone in the club knew better than to ask about it in the few times they were there. There had just been silence between them, a frustrated tension that spoke volumes. Oikawa cornered him one day and asked if everything was okay between them, and that if they had fought, they should resolve it quickly before they graduated.

Matsukawa hadn’t the heart to tell him about their break up. It was like a little secret between them. Their friends only found out about it after graduation. Even then, they still hadn’t spoken. Not a word of goodbye or good luck, or anything of that nature. They just…

Drifted off.

“Shit…” Laughing bitterly into his empty glass, Matsukawa could feel the familiar sting in the corner of his eyes.

The bartender was quiet as he yet again filled up Matsukawa’s glass. He didn’t dare ask what his bill for the evening was going to be. He wasn’t ready to know how much of his savings he was about to drink away. What was the saying? Burn that bridge when you get there? Oh well.

For hours, Matsukawa sat on that bar stool, his dark eyes red and sore as he continued to run his hands through his hair and grip his head as he shook it, as if trying to physically shake the thoughts from his mind. How could he, though? A year and a half…and he hadn’t forgotten Hanamaki’s wistful, cheeky grin when he and Matsukawa were up to no good during breaks. The way he had this oddly thoughtful look on his face when he contemplated what kind of cream puff he wanted that day, as if it were the hardest decision he would ever have to make. The way Hanamaki would stretch to high five him after a successful volleyball play during a match. The way his hand would slip into his own when they walked home, his long fingers entwining his with own. The heavy weight of his body sinking into his own in the middle of the night when they stayed over at each other’s houses, desperately trying not to wake their families up as the bed creaked under them.

How he wished his memory would stop tormenting him.

Matsukawa leaned his head onto the bar and cradled his head under his arms. He felt like such a wreck. All this because some girl had asked him if he was single…all because he couldn’t forget about him.

He must have fallen asleep after that. The next thing he knew, the bartender was shaking his shoulders, urging him to get up, and the bar itself was empty of other patrons. Just behind him, he could hear two voices in conversation, though most of it was lost on his waking mind.

“-he always like this?”

“Not always, just every now and then. He rarely comes here, and tends to drink himself into a stupor when he does.”

“This idiot…”

“We’re closing up, so get him out of here quick-smart.”

“Alright, old man, we’re going.”

“Careful, or I’ll make you settle his tab.”

The conversation bothered him, but he didn’t understand why. A hand patted his shoulder and mumbled some words that were unheard to him as he was ushered off the bar stool. In this drunken stupor, he complied, but no quicker had he done so had his knees buckled and he near collapsed against the bar itself. His side throbbed from where he had collided against the wooden surface, and he cursed while laughing quietly under his breath. When he had fallen, the hands on his shoulders had reached for him, grasping his chest tightly and trying to support him.

“Geez, make this easy on me…!” A voice grumbled as the person heaved him up, somehow managing to support Matsukawa’s weight and escort him from the bar and onto the street.

Matsukawa was vaguely aware of the rocking sensation of the gait of whomever was guiding him along. He continued to blink in a daze, making soft grunting noises through his nose as he tried to wake up. Every part of him felt heavy. He regretted his little pity-party in hindsight.

Lifting his gaze slightly, he could see the lamplights passing over his head in the darkness. How close to morning was it? If the old man was right, and it was near closing time, it would have been very, very early in the morning. Even Oikawa wouldn’t do him the favour of going out of his way to pick his drunken ass up. Tilting his head, his gaze flicked up to the one guiding him along the footpath, who was constantly grumbling curses at his person.

He sobered up relatively quickly after that.

With more force than Matsukawa would have thought himself capable while drunk, he pressed his hand to the other’s chest and shoved himself away quickly, causing them to yelp in surprise. Matsukawa tripped over his own feet as he pushed away, his weight bouncing against a chain-link fence with a loud rattling noise that disturbed the quiet street.

“What the fuck is this…” Matsukawa lowered his head, covering his eyes with a shaking hand as he hastily tried to wipe his eyes. “How drunk am I…?”

As if not trusting himself, he peered up through his fingers, and his rapidly beating heart began to squeeze tightly. Illuminated by the street light, as he had been a year and a half ago, was Hanamaki Takahiro. He had that familiar, yet all too distant, frown on his face, with a more than troubled look in his eyes.

Surely it was a dream. He was still at the bar, possibly drooling on the old’s mans polished bar top. He rubbed his face roughly, pinching his brow and cursing quietly. No…no, surely a dream. But when he looked up at him again, still on the receiving end of such a cold look, it sent a shiver down his spine. His heart had all but jumped into his throat. The lump forming there was tight and uncomfortable. His fingers absentmindedly griped the chain-link fence until his knuckles began to turn white, and he hunched his shoulders, sinking his weight against it more with a loud creak.

“What are you doing here…?” A thousand things bounced around his mind, but he could only bring himself to voice that question. Matsukawa wasn’t even sure what kind of tone he used. But he knew it was cold. He hated himself for it a little.

“You don’t remember?” Hanamaki raised a thin brow and scowled at him. “Of course you don’t, being like this. It’s a wonder you could remember my number being this drunk.”

How cruel of him, being so flippant. As if he could forget a number he read over and over again, debating on whether or not to delete it from his phone. In that moment, he half-heartedly wished he had. Seeing him in the flesh and not just in the photos he had saved onto his laptop; it hurt him. It cut him deeply, because all he could remember in that moment was the last time they had spoken.

When they broke up, and argued, and fought, and all but abandoned each other.

Sad thing was, Matsukawa hadn’t entirely done so.  He cursed himself for it, for how it twisted in his gut and made him feel sick.

He didn’t even know what to say. What was there to say? ‘ _It’s been almost two years and I can’t forget how in love with you I am?_ ’ As if. What the hell was he thinking, calling Hanamaki? What was he, a masochist?

“ _Why_ did you come?” He had to know. He _had_ to. If there was an etiquette guide book for dating, picking up your drunken ex-boyfriend of over a year would be on the _don’t-ever-do-ever_ list.

And yet there he was, right in front of his eyes. There had to be a reason. Come to bury the hatchet? Rebuild their friendship? He didn’t believe that. That was a rift torn long ago. When they had entered different universities in Tokyo, Iwaizumi had once approached Matsukawa, saying he had run into Hanamaki after class sometime. He offered to get them together, so they could talk.

He never brought it up again with the way Matsukawa responded.

“I don’t have a reason…” Matsukawa jerked his head up to shout at him for offering such a half-assed reply, but the words died in his throat when he saw Hanamaki’s expression. It was sombre, thoughtful even. And it got under his skin, made his blood boil, even through his shock. What kind of answer was that?

“I don’t need this.” Matsukawa all but slurred the words as he pushed away from the chain-link fence, putting a distance between them as he stepped around Hanamaki. “Go home.”

“Can’t.” A single word, but sharp enough to make Matsukawa pause in his stride. “The trains stop running after one in the morning, and it took me half an hour to get here from the station.”

“Book a hotel.”

“In this neighbourhood? Do you want me to get abducted?

“Not my problem.”

“…Do you hate me so much?”

 _Hate_. What a strong word it is. Looking over his shoulder at him, Matsukawa felt the bitterness rising inside him. His lip quivered as he bit back a hundred harsh words. What right did he have to say that? Hanamaki was the one that broke it off…he wanted to end it between them…why the hell did he have to be here?

“Hating you would be easier…” The words were mumbled so quietly, Matsukawa thought he merely thought them. But Hanamaki flinched, and he pursued his lips and clenched his fists. Was he angry? Fed up? Ready to go home and forget about him for another year and a half? Maybe more? Maybe forever? “Just go home already.”

Matsukawa turned on his heel sharply, determined to leave him behind this time. Every step made his heart squeeze, his gut twist, and his eyes water. But he had to, this time. If he didn’t now, he’d never escape. Hanamaki would always be that stranger in the street he has to look at twice. He would always be that distant voice around a corner, and the disappointment that comes with finding a stranger in his place. He would always be the empty space beside him in the night. He would always be on his mind, and there was only so much of his heart that was left to break.

The heavy thud of footsteps behind him readied him to feel Hanamaki bump into his shoulder roughly as he moved past him. The final blow that never came. Instead, a hand curled around his wrist and griped it tight enough to hurt, and as he winced and yelped in pain slightly, Hanamaki shoved against him and pushed his side with enough force to topple him. Latching onto him as he had, Hanamaki fell with him, and landed on his chest. There wasn’t much difference in their weight, but he was heavy enough that, combined with the fall onto the concrete, the wind was knocked right out of Matsukawa. He could feel the skin of his elbows stinging from scrapping against the ground.

Matsukawa groaned as he grabbed Hanamaki’s shoulder and pushed against him. His head was spinning enough without the possibility of a concussion. But Hanamaki leaned back into his weight, keeping firmly in place above him. He looked at him with a dark glare, though the tears in his eyes and the reddening of his ears betrayed him.

“Was it pointless for you, then?” Hanamaki spat the words with venom, and Matsukawa flinched, not because they hurt in particular, but because he remembered. Those were the words forgotten from his dreams. Those were the words he had yelled at him, back then. Those were the words that had made Hanamaki cry that night. “That was what you said to me…stop being selfish, acting like you’re the only one that was hurt…!”

Matsukawa could barely acknowledge the fact that Hanamaki was gripping his wrist tight enough to bruise the skin at that point. Hanamaki was leaning over him, looking like he was about to cry, despite trying to seem as though he wasn’t. Honestly, what was this, some cheesy soap opera? And in the middle of the street, no less.

“Of course I said that…you wanted to break up, with a shoddy reason like you thought I wasn’t going to care about you later on!” Matsukawa didn’t silence himself this time. He wasn’t angry now, not so much at least. But it hurt – oh, did it hurt. Made the knot in his stomach that much tighter, made the tightness in his chest border on deadly. He didn’t want to fight anymore. Even so, he couldn’t stop the flow of thought flooding from his lips, after so much time of stewing on it by himself.

“I know- I know that…!” Hanamaki insisted and grit his teeth together. “I should’ve talked to you about properly…I got ahead of myself and thought it would be easier.”

“Easier my ass.” Matsukawa hissed the words and dropped his head back to rest against the concrete. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since then. Nothing about it has been easy.”

“Goddamnit…” Matsukawa winced again when he felt Hanamaki’s grip on his wrist tighten. Growling slightly, he tried to shake off his hand as he looked back up at him, but once again froze. Hanamaki was crying this time, his eyes all puffed up and tears dripping down his chin and onto Matsukawa’s shirt. “Fuck you, Issei, always blurting out whatever you want…!”

There had been times in the past when Matsukawa had wondered if Hanamaki had ever thought of him, in the time they had been apart. If there had ever been nights when he had been kept awake by gnawing what if’s and could have been’s. He always told himself no, Hanamaki probably moved on. It had been so long, after all. For first time in a year and a half, he wondered, had he been wrong?

“What about you?” Matsukawa murmured as he stared up at Hanamaki, crying like a lost child, while reaching for his free hand, his fingers lightly skimming over his knuckles. Maybe they were both a little lost. “Did you think about me?”

“What kind of loaded question is that?” Hanamaki grumbled the words through his tears, doing his best to suppress the hiccupping that dared interrupt his words as he twisted his hand to grip Matsukawa’s tightly. Matsukawa could see the way his adam’s apple was bobbing as he tried to stifle his quiet sobs. “I didn’t stop in the first place.”

The bitterness and half-hearted resentment Matsukawa had been holding onto ebbed away when he heard those words. He thought he would never in his lifetime hear them – rather, he never thought he would ever hear Hanamaki’s voice again. Sometimes he had feared he would forget that voice, whether happy or annoyed or upset. Now…now he could think of nothing.

All he could do was grip Hanamaki’s hand tightly in the street light and raise his other hand to tightly latch onto him, hugging him as best he could as Hanamaki leaned into his chest and nuzzled his neck. His hair smelled of something sweet, as it always had, and his hand was no smaller nor larger than it had ever been.

It was just the same, fitting so well in his palm. How he had missed such an innocent, simple touch.

How he had missed him.


	2. I Won't Forget You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning right now: it's entirely NSFW. There are dicks. Dicks in butts. Takes a bit but it gets there. It's NSFW, m'kay? M'kay. Enjoy.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here before someone reports us.” Matsukawa said with an awkward smile as he gently patted Hanamaki’s back.

Hanamaki cleared his throat as he pushed off Matsukawa’s lap, still holding onto his hand as the other lifted himself up, groaning as he did so. Not another word was said as Matsukawa tugged on his fingers gently, squeezing his palm ever so slightly in his hand as he urged Hanamaki to walk beside him. The stood close by one another as they walked, with their arms brushing against another’s. Hanamaki kept his head down slightly, trying to sneakily rub his eyes and cheeks when he thought Matsukawa wasn’t looking. Matsukawa couldn’t help but think it was cute in a way, how he tried to remain composed.

Matsukawa wasn’t sure how he was managing to do so himself. His heart felt as though it were going to implode in his chest. His mind echoed question after question; where do they go from there on? How were they going to close the gap between them?

But feeling the warmth of his hand in his own, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling like the love-struck moron he was.

They walked in silence for the longest time with Matsukawa leading the way. Eventually, the campus grounds of Matsukawa’s university came into sight, and the two of them passed through the gates without issue. As they neared the dormitory entrance, Matsukawa turned towards Hanamaki and raised a finger to his lips, quietly ushering him to remain as quiet as he could. Hanamaki tried to stop himself from smirking to no avail, and lifted his free hand to cover his mouth slightly as he followed Matsukawa inside.

They weren’t sneaking in after a curfew of some sort, but it was still late at night. They tried to walk slowly, but the sound of their footsteps was hardly muffled by the tiled floor, and less so in the stairway leading up to the upper floors. Matsukawa let go of Hanamaki’s hand only when they reached his dorm room. Hanamaki looked around nervously, hoping no one would peek out of their room and spy them in the hall as Matsukawa fished a set of keys out of his pocket. He unlocked the door quickly and allowed Hanamaki to enter first before following in after him.

Hanamaki took a moment to examine his dorm room. It wasn’t exactly small, but it was hardly any bigger than their old volleyball club room. It was dark, as Matsukawa refrained from turning on the light, instead moving inside to turn on a lamp at the desk. There was a bed against the far wall with a dresser at the foot of it, with unfolded clothes spilling out of the drawers and left in washing baskets on top of it. The desk Matsukawa was beside was opposite the bed, with a number of text books and papers haphazardly scattered on its surface, and in the corner near the door was a television propped up on an end table of a sort, with several DVD’s neatly stacked under it.

“Living in luxury, I see.” Hanamaki murmured as Matsukawa looked at him in the entryway.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Matsukawa joked and rubbed the back of his neck, grazing his nails against his skin. Hanamaki laughed a little as he stepped into the room a bit more, as if easing his way back into Matsukawa’s space. He felt incredibly awkward in doing so. He felt out of place, with it having been so long.

They had been so close during high school, even before they had started dating – before everything else. Now, it felt as though he needed to bridge that gap again from the very beginning. Hanamaki had no idea how to go about doing that. He hadn’t the foggiest. But when he looked at Matsukawa again – nervously, from the corner of his eye, as if afraid of being caught doing so – he simply felt happy seeing him again. He cursed himself inwardly for being so pleased in that moment after the trouble he had caused.

As he had been standing there, staring at the wall lost in his own thoughts with an almost childish pout on his face, Matsukawa had moved to his side. Hanamaki flinched slightly as he felt Matsukawa’s fingers once again skim against his fingers. While Matsukawa wasn’t much taller than him, Hanamaki still had to look up at him.

Hanamaki didn’t know what kind of face he was making exactly. Matsukawa didn’t even know himself. His usually narrowed eyes were half lidded as he stared down at Hanamaki, the knuckles of his fingers grazing against his ever so slightly, and in the dim light, Hanamaki could just barely see the flushed look to his cheeks.

Hanamaki’s chest began to rise and fall a little more rapidly as he became more aware of Matsukawa’s presence at his side. Had he always been that broad? Of course he had…but at the same time, he seemed so different. He felt like Matsukawa was staring through him, and he felt exposed for the first time in a long while.

As he once more invited Matsukawa’s hand to link with his own, he felt his cheeks flushing more and more. His skin began to burn and he cursed himself. He hoped Matsukawa wouldn’t be able to notice. Rather, Matsukawa was enduring the same thoughts himself.

“Shit…” Hanamaki muttered under his breath and reached up to run a hand through his short hair. He felt like he had sat in the sun for too long and was burning up. “How the hell do we even do this anymore?”

“I don’t know.” Matsukawa replied honestly and bent his head slightly to lean it against Hanamaki’s, nuzzling against his head slightly. There was but a hair’s breadth between them and their beating hearts. “I want to find out though.”

“There you go again, saying whatever the hell you want.” Hanamaki couldn’t bring himself to look at him, and instead settled on staring a hole through his chest. It did little to calm him, as he finally noticed that Matsukawa’s shirt itself was rather form fitting, and seemed to cling to his skin.

“Sorry.” Matsukawa spoke barely above a murmur, his concentration focused on the hand that was reaching up to slip around the back of Hanamaki’s neck.

Hanamaki felt the slightest shiver spread under his skin at the skimming of those fingertips against his neck, and it encouraged him to tilt his head back and hunch his shoulders slightly, as if trying to limit how much Matsukawa could touch him there. It was foolish, as now he couldn’t bring himself to look away from him.

They stood in complete silence, the only sound in the room was the soft exhale of their breath. Matsukawa pinched the ends of Hanamaki’s hair between his index and thumb as he held the back of his neck, an action he himself was unaware of. Hanamaki wished he would stop. Such a tiny action was filling his stomach with butterflies.

“Fuck.” It was the only word Hanamaki could mutter as he pulled his hand free of Matsukawa’s, quickly latching onto his collar and forcefully bending him down slightly.

The gap between them was closed in an instant. Matsukawa cradled the back of his neck as he pressed his lips to his in a hasty, long awaited kiss. There was a loud clatter as Hanamaki stepped back against the dresser at the foot of the bed, and Matsukawa stood in front of him, leaning against his chest as he deepened the kiss.

Hanamaki released a quiet moan into the kiss as he felt one of Matsukawa’s hands sliding up his side, lifting his shirt slightly as he did so. Matsukawa’s hand was warm against his skin, burning hot in fact, and he arched his back into the touch as that hand moved to glide over the small of his back, resulting in Hanamaki pressing his chest closer to Matsukawa’s. Matsukawa guided him into a tighter embrace, holding him close in his arms as he bit down on Hanamaki’s lower lip, tugging on it slightly as he rocked his hips forward into his. Hanamaki once again sighed into the kiss and reached up to grab a handful of Matsukawa’s hair, griping it as he pulled him back into the kiss.

It took all of a few careful steps to move away from the edge of the dresser and to collapse onto the bed, with Hanamaki crawling backwards on it as Matsukawa leaned over him, pursuing him until they were sinking into the centre. With swift hands, Matsukawa spread Hanamaki’s legs and slid his hands up his thighs until his fingers latched onto the hem of his jeans. No less eager, Hanamaki rolled his hips and tugged his jeans down as Matsukawa did the same, quickly turning his attention to the bulge forming under the thin fabric of his underwear.

There was hardly any shyness between them. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t had sex before. More than that, there was a strong desire. An urge to hold and to be held in turn, to touch and to delve into the other wholly and without reserve. And, as it was in their nature, there was an over abundant urge to tease.

Matsukawa leaned down between his thighs, and in anticipation, Hanamaki tilted his head back and allowed himself to rub his fingers against Matsukawa’s scalp, making an almighty mess of his hair. Matsukawa heaved a sigh, blowing his warm breath against his slightly clothed pelvis as he began to pull his underwear down, smirking at the way Hanamaki’s hips twitched.

He wasted no time in ghosting his fingers against the underside of his shaft, grinning to himself even more as Hanamaki sunk his hips into the mattress with a soft creak from the spring, only to roll them back into the touch of his hand.

“F-Fuck…Matsukawa…” Hanamaki breathed out, his face reddening with each passing second as Matsukawa’s warm breath made his cock twitch and his fingers glided just against the underside of his shaft.

“Wrong.” Matsukawa chuckled deep in his chest, a sound that Hanamaki had all but near forgotten.

“I-Issei…” Hanamaki almost whined as he ground his hips into Matsukawa’s hand once more, this time with more force and intent. He knew exactly what Matsukawa was doing, and he didn’t like it one bit. “Get on with it already…!”

“Don’t rush me.” Matsukawa teased with another soft laugh, but silenced himself as Hanamaki gave a rather meaningful tug on his hair. Looking up at him from between his legs, Matsukawa could barely see his face. He wondered what face he was making. Was he pouting? Annoyed? Very likely.

Reining in his smirk, Matsukawa dipped his head and brought his lips to the tip of his cock, beginning to drag his tongue over the head dripping with his pre-cum. Hanamaki’s moan only just reached his ears, but it was stifled quickly thereafter. Hanamaki had to remind himself he was in a college dorm. It reminded him of all those late nights in each other’s homes back in Miyagi.

Matsukawa was as attentive as ever, switching between his hand and his mouth to please him as he saw fit. His fingers would stroke the side, his thumb constantly rubbing the underside of his cock near the base as he would suck the tip, bobbing his head up and down slightly as he took his length deeper. Hanamaki bucked his hips every so often, and with more frequency as Matsukawa began to gaze his teeth against the side of his cock just a little, but enough to send a jolt of pleasure through his body that made him curl his toes and grip his hair tighter.

All too suddenly, Matsukawa pulled back and shifted to sit upright between his legs, and it took Hanamaki a moment to remember what came next. As Matsukawa leaned over him, reaching into the drawer of the beside-table for the necessities, Hanamaki quickly began to remove his pants and underwear entirely, throwing the articles of clothing somewhere into the dim light of the room. When Matsukawa settled himself back on his knees, Hanamaki had already sat up himself, and his hands were reaching out to undress Matsukawa’s lower half. They guided each other with their hands, moving without much thought. As Hanamaki tugged on Matsukawa’s belt, he lifted himself up to stand on his knees, burying his head in the other’s neck to litter the exposed flesh with a hundred soft kisses that made him shudder.

In his haste, Hanamaki growled as he fumbled with his belt. At the same time, Matsukawa was debating on whether or not to abandon the task of lubricating his fingers or opting to grope the flushed skin of Hanamaki’s thighs and backside that was exposed to him. The decision was made for him as Hanamaki finally pulled his pants down to hang around his thighs before pushing down on his shoulder until he was sitting back down. Matsukawa could hardly stop the impish smile tugging at the corners of his lips as Hanamaki crawled onto his lap, one arm draped over his shoulder and holding him close, the other squeezed between their chests to rub the thickness of their cocks together.

“I said, get on with it…” Hanamaki growled the words, not in anger, but rather in impatience. Matsukawa’s smile only grew.

“So demanding...” Matsukawa could only laugh as he stared up at Hanamaki, who was adjusting themselves to be comfortable on his lap.

Matsukawa flicked open the small bottle of lubricant and began to coat his fingers in a decent amount as Hanamaki ground their hips together, uttering a soft moan under his breath as he began to stroke the two of them at once. Matsukawa felt a blush creeping up on his cheeks as Hanamaki did so, and shifted himself slightly grope his backside, beginning to rub his fingers against the twitching entrance.

“Issei- ah!” Hanamaki tried to utter his name quietly, only to be cut short as a moan parted his lips unintentionally just as Matsukawa began to circle his fingers against his entrance, slowly teasing him as he pushed his fingers inside.

There was a great deal Matsukawa wanted to do. There were many places on Hanamaki’s body that his hands had not touched for the longest time, places he wondered would give familiar reactions in response to his touch, and his alone. But there was a hunger growing in the pit of his stomach, a desire that came with the sensation of Hanamaki’s half naked body pressing tightly against his own. That hunger would consume and devour him if he wasn’t careful.

But with the way Hanamaki twitched and rocked on his lap, eagerly shaking his hips in accordance with the quick and skilled movements of their own hands, his resolve was beginning to falter.

“Takahiro.” Matsukawa huffed his name through a moan as Hanamaki squeezed his length, and again when the friction of his grinding his body against his, all the while continuing to stroke him and make his cock slick with their pre-cum. In a vain attempt to stifle the moans threatening to alert his neighbouring classmates, Matsukawa buried his face into Hanamaki’s shoulder, biting down on the fabric of his shirt and breathing against it heavily. Hanamaki, who had closed his eyes and contented himself to bite down on his lower lip to silence himself, blushed as he looked at Matsukawa with desire deep in his eyes.

“Issei…” His name was uttered through a guttural sound directly into his ear, an act that made Matsukawa shiver and grow harder against him. “More…”

Matsukawa didn’t need any more encouragement. Pulling his fingers free of Hanamaki’s rear – an act that made the light haired man whimper at the loss of the pleasure that had been building there – Matsukawa pressed his hands to Hanamaki’s chest and laid him down. As he crawled over him, Matsukawa hurriedly pulled on Hanamaki’s shirt, yanking it over his head roughly and throwing it aside. Hanamaki did the same for him as quickly as he could, taking a moment to drag his fingers down his chest, the tips of his nails scraping against the hard muscles there.

Panting softly, Matsukawa pulled one of Hanamaki’s thighs over his hip as he straddled him, grinding his entire body against him in a way that made his lover do the same in response, eager for his touch, for his affection, for his desire.

Through one last soft murmuring of his name, Matsukawa pressed his lips to Hanamaki’s in another deep kiss, their tongues tangling together as Matsukawa thrust into him. The kiss was broken by a sharp gasp that made Hanamaki arch his back into Matsukawa’s chest, but their lips soon found each other once more.

Matsukawa’s small dorm room began to fill with the soft sounds of moans of names and gasps of pleasure stifled by kisses, accompanied by a distinct slapping noise as skin connected with skin repeatedly, and all the while, the bed creaked under their weight.

Hanamaki could only cling to Matsukawa, his fingers dipping into his shoulders roughly as he murmured incoherent words against his lips through his moans.

“I love you Issei…! I love- ah!” Hanamaki gasped as he felt Matsukawa thrusting deeper into him, and he shuddered under him as he began to curl his toes once more. His chest rose and fell rapidly as his breathing became hitched, his moans turning into breathless gasps as he neared his climax.

Matsukawa’s mind was blank of anything at that point. All he could do was indulge himself in the feeling of Hanamaki squeezing him and desperately pressing against him, as if being joined at the hip was no longer enough. They were flushed and sweating, and lost in their delirium, no longer cared about what noise they might be making. Matsukawa’s hands explored Hanamaki’s body, groping his hard thighs and squeezing them against his sides as he thrust harder into him.

Matsukawa knew he was close. Hanamaki was curling up under him, twitching more and more as he grabbed at some part of him, wanting to touch him, wanting to feel him again. Eventually those wandering hands buried themselves in Matsukawa’s hair, pulling his head down to kiss him once more; sloppily and without skill, but full of affection and wanton lust.

The kiss was broken as it had been before by a series of sharp moans that bounced off the walls of the dorm room. Hanamaki was all but begging him now, and Matsukawa leaned his weight against him as he held his body close to his own, moaning into his neck as his orgasm spread through his body just as Hanamaki himself came on his chest, the warmth of it dripping from his tanned flesh as Hanamaki squirmed under him, unused to the feeling of being filled up after so long.

They lay there together, joined literally at the hip, their hands touching each other’s faces, stroking their shoulders and wherever else they could reach as they kissed tiredly, whispering soft _I love you_ ’s against their lips.

Matsukawa had dreaded going to sleep alone that night when he had left class. He never considered this possibility, that Hanamaki would be in his arms again, curling against his chest and ghosting his lips against his lips, his jaw, his collarbone and more. If he were by chance dreaming in that shoddy bar, he wished to never awaken from such bliss.

Having Hanamaki lie in his arms, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against his side…

He was eager to remember all those things he had nearly forgotten about love.


	3. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely had to add another chapter to this after Scarheart99789 made a really lovely comment with this gem of an idea: "I just really want Mattsun to explain why he was at that bar in the first place and Makki try to tease him about it even though he's tearing up because of course that's why he'd be there".
> 
> So here, have some shameless, utterly self-indulgent fluff.

Hanamaki felt as though he were suffocating when he woke up. It was stifling hot, and it took him several moments to understand why. The few blankets on the bed were tucked up high against his neck, and he was tucked close under the chin of Matsukawa. When he moved to sit up, he found himself unable to do so, as Matsukawa’s arms were wrapped close around his waist, his warm hands touching his shoulders and keeping him firmly in place against his chest.

Laying in his arms, in his embrace, made him utterly embarrassed. He’d forgotten how affectionate Matsukawa was. He could feel his face turning red as Matsukawa squirmed when he tried to move again, an act that made the sleeping man nuzzle his head affectionately, their bedridden hair ruffling even more.

“Mattsun?” Hanamaki murmured the old nickname quietly, pushing his hand against Matsukawa’s chest lightly, hoping he might awaken or loosen his hold on him. It felt odd, calling him by that nickname after such a long time. It made him smile despite himself, to be able to call him that way again. There was so much he couldn’t wait to do once more, with Matsukawa at his side.

“Mh…” Matsukawa made a soft groaning noise as he nudged closer to him, his arms encircling his waist even more.

Hanamaki felt a shudder creep up his spine as Matsukawa’s hand slid across his back, shifting to pull him closer. With a deep pout, Hanamaki lay against his chest, his face turning several shades of red as he Matsukawa refused to let him go. Laying against his chest, Hanamaki was oddly soothed by the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of Matsukawa’s chest as he slowly breathed out as he slept, his heart beating under Hanamaki’s hand.

He didn’t know how long he laid in his arms for. The sun was well and truly up, the warm light flooding through the slightly open curtains in Matsukawa’s dorm room and bathing Matsukawa’s back in the golden light. He felt like he was in a dream, and a part of his mind told him not to move, just in case everything faded away in that moment. But outside he could hear the shuffling noises of the dorm’s residents getting up and readying themselves for the day, and remembering the night before, he knew that moment, there and enthralled by his presence, was real.

“Stop staring at me…” Matsukawa’s voice startled him and he jolted in his arms. Hanamaki’s face turned even redder as he pushed against Matsukawa’s chest and pried himself out of his arms.

“You jerk, how long have you been up-?” Hanamaki whined but cut himself short, the childish look on his face fading as his words did when he saw the sheepish grin on Matsukawa’s face, as well as the red tinting of his cheeks.

“It’s embarrassing, stop it.” Matsukawa smiled at him warmly, a tender grin that tugged at the corners of his lips and left his eyes looking soft and inviting. Hanamaki could only gape at him from above, unsure what to do in that moment.

Unable to find some way to retort, Hanamaki instead moved to sit upright on the edge of the bed, tugging the sheets and blankets over his bare lap, less out of shame and more out of embarrassment after realising he had slept nude beside Matsukawa. It shouldn’t bother him, it wasn’t as if it were the first time…but it was the first time in a long time, and that made it all the more difficult. Matsukawa lay beside him silently, and as time went by, neither said a word.

Hanamaki could feel his heart pounding in his chest as more time went by, with Matsukawa saying nothing as he slowly woke up. After over a year and more of nothing between them…where did they go from there? Hanamaki didn’t know. If it was this awkward being beside him, that didn’t bode well for the future, if there ever would be one.

His heart squeezed in his chest a little more as he felt the weight of the bed shift behind him, and the springs creaked as Matsukawa sat up. Hanamaki twitched when Matsukawa leaned against his side, a hand shamelessly sliding around his waist and pulling him close into his chest, his head dropping to rest on his shoulder. After a moment, Hanamaki could feel his lips pressing against the bare skin of his shoulder, planting soft kisses against his skin. He squirmed a little, edging his shoulder down, as if trying to escape. Matsukawa merely slid his lips across his flesh, kissing up his neck and nipping the soft spot under his earlobe.

“O-oi, stop…” Hanamaki protested weakly as he continued to squirm in his embrace. To his credit, Matsukawa did stop, content to merely lean against him and feel his body pressing against his own. “Don’t you have class?”

“Not today.” Matsukawa mumbled and yawned by Hanamaki’s ear, and Hanamaki raised a hand to cover it when he felt a breath of warm air blow past the lobe, a sensation that tickled his skin. Matsukawa grinned a little when he noticed this, and puckered his lips to huff against his skin until Hanamaki was squirming and trying to crawl out of his arms.

“Knock it off, that tickles…!” Hanamaki hissed and tried to stand up and away from the twisting.

Matsukawa playfully grabbed his wrist as he moved to pull away, smiling at him as he tugged Hanamaki back towards the bed, pulling him down onto his lap. Hanamaki’s flushed red as he did so, the skin of his face and neck burning hot as Matsukawa settled him back into his lap and wrapped his arms around his legs.

Really, he just didn’t know what to make of the situation in general. It wasn’t as if he disliked it, far from it. Rather, it made him happy. His stomach felt light and was twisting into knots as Matsukawa leaned his forhead against his, staring at him with half-lidded, sleep filled eyes as Hanamaki hunched his shoulders, shying away from his gaze.

“Hey, Takahiro…” When Matsukawa murmured his name softly in nothing more than a soft, hushed whisper, Hanamaki felt his heart leap in his chest.

“What?” Hanamaki cleared his throat before speaking, knowing all too well his voice would probably crack, and that would only embarrass him more.

“Will you stay here a little longer? Just until I wake up a bit more?” Matsukawa breathed the words out quietly, as if he didn’t trust his own voice to carry them.

“’Course…doesn’t seem like you’re letting me go anytime soon anyway.” Hanamaki jested, chuckling a little as Matsukawa’s smile broadened.

“Good…” Matsukawa closed his eyes a little, letting his head drop again until it was resting against Hanamaki’s shoulder. “I just want to be sure this is real, you know?”

“…You’re doing it again. Saying whatever you want.” Hanamaki was glad he had lowered his head, otherwise he’d see how utterly embarrassed he was. Hanamaki leaned against him and rested his chin on top of his head, just in case he got any ideas and suddenly decided to look up before he had calmed down.

“Sorry.” Matsukawa said softly, his smile grin just as wide and toothy as before. “I love you, Takahiro.”

Hanamaki wasn’t sure if he could blush any more than he already way, and could only bring himself to make a small whining noise. He was a little annoyed, because he wasn’t sure if Matsukawa was being a hundred percent sincere or saying that to tease him. He felt it was a little of both, if he was being honest with himself.

Matsukawa began talking nonsense after a little while, about maybe going out to breakfast with him in a bit, but wanting to stay with him just a little longer, so maybe going out to lunch instead. Hanamaki was paying attention as best his could, but found it hard to focus when Matsukawa’s fingers were drawing invisible patterns on the small of his back with his fingertips. His back began rigid and tense, and he found it hard to relax with Matsukawa absentmindedly doing that to him.

Hanamaki tried to get his mind off it somehow. Tried to think of something other than Matsukawa in that moment, something to distract him from the tender touch sliding up his spine. Despite his best efforts, it was futile. All he could think of was the way Matsukawa had held him close in his arms throughout the night, the way those fingers had slipped across his neck and become tangled in his short hair, the way he murmured his name and looked at him with such sincere yearning.

Hanamaki hunched his shoulders as he lifted his arms to wrap them around Matsukawa’s neck, hugging him close to prevent him from looking at his flushed face. He scolded himself inwardly, chewing on his lower lip as he tried to free his mind from such thoughts. Hell, he even tried to remember what he had had for dinner yesterday, something simple that would drone out Matsukawa’s sweet, endearing voice.

And then something strange occurred to him. He had been well and truly asleep when he received Matsukawa’s drunken call from the bar, and through the panic of picking up the old, familiar number, Hanamaki was fearful for what he might hear. Matsukawa’s words had been nothing more than a slurred mess with his name muttered repeatedly, along with a mumbled ‘ _I want to see you…_ ’ that made his heart squeeze painfully. Hanamaki might not have even known where to find him if the bartender hadn’t taken the phone from Matsukawa’s drunken hands and explained the situation to him.

But despite that, it had never occurred to Hanamaki to ask what had driven him to get blind drunk in the first place.

“-hiro? Ta-ka-hi-ro~?” Matsukawa had apparently been trying to get his attention, calling out his name in long drawls while patting his back.

“Sorry.” Feeling calmer, but quietly curious, Hanamaki leaned back and looked down at Matsukawa from on high on his lap.

“What’s the matter…?” Matsukawa’s voice was filled with concern. It caught him off-guard, seeing the way his brows lifted near above the bridge of his nose and his lips pursed tight in anticipation. Hanamaki must have worried him when he didn’t respond when his name was being called.

“Nothing, nothing. I promise.” Hanamaki smiled at him weakly, and Matsukawa leaned away slightly to bring his hands away from his back to grab Hanamaki’s forearms, his fingers curling around his pale wrists and rubbing them gently with his thumbs.

“You sure?” He couldn’t disguise the worry in his voice, and hoping to reassure him, Hanamaki shifted his hands to slip his fingers into the short dishevelled locks of his dark hair.

“Yeah, just…” Hanamaki bit the corner of his mouth a little, but Matsukawa gave him that curious, dreadful look, and he sighed a little as he readied to say what was on his mind. “What were you doing last night? At the bar, I mean. You were seriously drunk when I showed up after all.”

“Oh. Um…” The question clearly hadn’t been what he had expected, and stunned into silence, Matsukawa lost any opportunity to reply sarcastically and dropped his head a little, lifting one of his hands away from Hanamaki’s arm to scratch the side of his head. “Drinking, you know. Just…yeah.”

“Just yeah?” Hanamaki repeated with a raised brow. There was obviously a reason, and now he was curious not only as to the reason why but the why he wouldn’t explain himself. Curling his lower lip, Hanamaki pouted at him, making it known without words he was unimpressed with his answer. Matsukawa looked at him from the corner of his eye and he looked away quickly, groaning softly under his breath.

“Promise you won’t laugh?” Matsukawa asked him quietly with a sidelong glance.

“I’ll try not to.” Hanamaki teased as he lightly slapped the back of Matsukawa’s head. He didn’t know why, but it made him ease up a little, and Matsukawa looked at him before dropping his head again to stare at their laps.

“I um…a girl asked me out, well, she asked if I was single really. Kinda the same thing I guess, but…” Matsukawa was hesitant to speak, but Hanamaki could tell he was making an effort not to bite back his words. Hanamaki felt a slight pang in his chest at the thought that someone might have been close to replacing him. “I almost said no. Like…like for a moment I forget we – that you and I – that we weren’t dating, like nothing had happened, and…fuck, I just felt pathetic after that.”

Hanamaki was shocked into silence. All he could do was stare at the crown of Matsukawa’s head as he kept it low, constantly touching his hair nervously, as if afraid to look up at him. A heavy lump began to form in his throat as Hanamaki tried to think of something to say. He didn’t know what to say. He felt horrible, like the worst kind of person, for having put Matsukawa into a position so utterly pitiful.

He should have been braver back then. That night when he had broken up with him so hastily, had fought with him so foolishly. He should have just bitten the bullet and spoken to him, gotten his fears off his chest. A year and a half of not knowing what Matsukawa was or who he was with, if he had moved on or forgotten him, and bitterly acting as if he didn’t care in front of Oikawa and Iwaizumi whenever they offhandedly mentioned seeing Matsukawa on campus…it had been a terrible waste.

“Geez…” Hanamaki’s voice cracked as he began to stutter the words that thoughtlessly left his throat, unsure himself what his words were going to be. He narrowed his eyes slightly, feeling a painful sting in them as he stared at Matsukawa’s head. “That’s not good for you, you know? What the hell were you thinking?”

Matsukawa lifted his head slowly to look at him, and the anxious look on his face slowly melted away into a sobered, almost wistful one as he stared at Hanamaki. His hands shifted once more, thoughtlessly moving to cup Hanamaki’s cheeks, his thumbs carefully brushing the skin where tears threatened to fall from his watering eyes.

“I guess I was thinking how hopelessly in love I am with you.” Matsukawa’s words were serious and earnest, and Hanamaki dropped his head as he choked back a quiet sob, his shoulders shuddering as Matsukawa softly shushed him, stroking his face as he rocked him slightly on his lap, a vain attempt to soothe him.

Hanamaki couldn’t think of anything else right then. The only thing he felt was an overwhelming urge to show Matsukawa that he loved him, that he wanted him and cared for him, more than he had ever before. He touched the hands on his face, keeping them firm under his own hands as he leaned forward and kissed Matsukawa, his lips brushing against his in a sloppy but affectionate kiss. Matsukawa inhaled sharply through his nose as he returned the kiss, his hands lightly squeezing Hanamaki’s face as he pulled him just an inch closer into his embrace.

“I love you, Issei.” Hanamaki spoke into his mouth, his lips overlapping Matsukawa’s as he repeated the words over, and over. Saying it once, twice, three times and more – it wasn’t enough. It just wasn’t enough. His hands were shaking as much as his voice was, and the more he stuttered the words into the kiss, the tighter Matsukawa held him in his arms.

“I know, Takahiro. I know.” Matsukawa breathed out the words when Hanamaki quietened enough to let him get a word in edgeways through the kiss. “I love you, too. I love you…”

They held each other for a long time, their bodies pressed tightly together as they kissed with fever through mumbled words and Hanamaki’s quiet hiccupping that made him jolt on Matsukawa’s lap.

It was some time until Matsukawa was able to calm Hanamaki down. It was easy in that kind of situation for him to simply shut his mouth and just hold him. To simply rest his hands on Hanamaki’s shaking shoulders and feel the trembling cease very slowly as he rubbed them, pressing his lips against his quivering ones. He could have mumbled and muttered a hundred thousand thoughtless comforts, but that wouldn’t cut it. All he could do was hold him, and Hanamaki in turn could only be held, pressing himself close to his chest to feel the beat of his heart, the heart that belonged him. How he had mistreated it…he was determined to never break it again.

Eventually they were sitting cross-legged on the bed, with Hanamaki curled up on his lap and nuzzled close against his chest and neck, with Matsukawa tenderly rubbing his back and squeezing his hand. When he was confident that Hanamaki was calm, Matsukawa asked if he wanted to go and get something for breakfast. Hanamaki was hesitant, only because Matsukawa had practically snuck him in the night before and didn’t want to cause him any problems with the other dorm residents.

Matsukawa told him firmly that he didn’t care, and would sooner hauled Hanamaki out of his dorm and boast about him rather than try to keep him hidden away. Hanamaki snickered a little at the thought of Matsukawa hauling him over his shoulder and carrying him around.

They peeled themselves off one another to get dressed, although Hanamaki remained seated on the bed, hugging his knees as he watched Matsukawa search the room for where their clothes from last night had been discarded. Hanamaki flushed a tiny bit as Matsukawa stepped into a clean pair of underwear and jeans, the fabric sliding over his legs and clinging to his skin. Hanamaki was almost half tempted to ask him to simply jump back into bed with him, if not to fool around than to simply be beside him.

Although the idea quickly fled his mind as he heard the sound of a latch flicking, and his head jerked towards the door of Matsukawa’s dorm room just as it was beginning to open.

“Oi, Mattsun, you’re not dead are…you…” A familiar voice drifted off as the door was opened and Hanamaki found himself staring at none other than Oikawa, looking like a deer caught in headlights as he locked eyes with him.

Hanamaki was, after all, naked in Matsukawa’s dorm room, with nothing but a sheet just barely covering his naked body.

“Stop blocking the doorway, Shittykawa.” Another familiar voice sounded nearby and Oikawa yelped as a hand came down to smack the back of his head, and Hanamaki felt as though he were ready to die. Iwaiuzmi looked into the room over Oikawa’s shoulder, shocked still as Oikawa suddenly went red and tried to turn around and push Iwaizumi away so he could close the door.

“Can you guys close the door? There’s a draft…” Hanamaki spoke thoughtlessly. It was all he could bring himself to say, nothing else came to mind. He wanted to crawl into a hole when he saw Iwaizumi’s sharp, smug grin.

“Sure thing.” Iwaizumi stepped aside so that the flustered Oikawa could slip passed and he reached forward to close the door, winking at Matsukawa as he did so.

Hanamaki knew he wasn’t going to hear the end of it later. He heaved a heavy sigh as he dropped his head and slapped his hands to his face, feeling his cheeks heat up quickly. His head snapped up when he heard Matsukawa snickering childishly, and was about to tell him off when Matsukawa crossed the short space between his desk and the bed to lean down and rest his hands on Hanamaki’s knees, bending down to kiss his lips sweetly.

Hanamaki whined against his lips and refused to return the kiss, and Matsukawa snickered again.

“Issei! Knock it off!” Hanamaki cried indignantly, and Matsukawa grinned widely as he kissed him again, uncaring if Hanamaki was ready to throttle him.

“Mhm…whatever you say, Takahiro.” Matsukawa mumbled and rested his forehead against his, barely an inch between them as he grinned at Matsukawa.

Hanamaki knew he was going to be teased relentlessly later. He’d simply have to endure it though. If that was the price he had to pay for being able to stand by Matsukawa’s side, to be able to feel the familiar groves of his hands and the tender kisses meant only for him…

He’d pay that price as many times as he needed to, if it meant that he could be loved by him again.


End file.
